


I’m With You

by winter_angst



Category: Captain America (Movies), Political Animals
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Halloween Foods, M/M, Russian desserts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst
Summary: A chance meeting turns into something more on the spookiest day of the year. And what’s scarier than falling in love? Well, a veggie platter according to Clint.





	I’m With You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalika999 (kalika_999)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).

> A treat for my lovely Halloween exchange pal, Kali. I hope you like it. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> (I also borrowed Baker!Jack from her)

TJ skipped ahead of Brock, close enough to ease any of his worries about him getting separated but far enough so that he felt a bit more independent. Brock was doing his best to let the teen branch out more despite his intellectual handicap. It was a work in progress at best. 

“Brock look at that!” TJ stopped dead in front of a window display causing a young woman on her phone to almost bump into him.

She maneuvered around him with a mumbled apology that TJ either didn’t hear or ignored, looking wide eyed at the Halloween display. “Pretty neat,” Brock agreed. “Have you decided what ya wanna be for Clint and Nat’s party?”

TJ looked deep in thought, tips of ears turning red in the chilly October afternoon air, dark hair fluffed up from snatching off his hat on the bus despite Brock’s pleas. “I dunno yet.” TJ said, blue gray eyes roaming back to the plastic skeletons and horror icons. “Is the party gonna be real scary Brock?”

“We’re going to have a creepy dinner with spooky snacks and watch scary movies.” 

Brock wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed but knowing his friends, it would be ridiculously good fun. Steve and Bucky would definitely have awful couple costumes and Lucky would be dressed to the dimes. It was tradition, someone different hosting each year. Clint and Natasha definitely got more into the horror side of Halloween while everyone else went the more traditional route of candy and cheap scares. Since TJ became Brock’s ward however they dialed back the frights so he could join in too. 

The past six years with TJ had been adjustment for the both of them, what with Brock’s estranged sister passing and all. He hadn’t even known TJ existed but that didn’t make him so much as hesitate when the social worker asked him to take over caring for him. He was a sweet kid who would always be mentally that: a kid. But his attitude, if Brock could call it that, was new. 

Halloween was one of TJ’s most favorite times of year and usually he knew what he wanted to be in late July. Now, with the party later this evening, TJ seemed undecided still. His passion for the spooky season hadn’t stopped at all. The entire walk from the bus stop to the Halloween store had been peppered with stops for TJ to admire the decorations. He had been thrilled when they were carving pumpkins (well, TJ was in charge of the goop while Brock did all the knife work) and had taken over hanging fake cobwebs in front of the apartment door. 

The hesitation to select a costume had Brock stumped and, maybe, a bit worried. TJ has emotions as complex as the next person but he didn’t have the vocabulary to express it. Brock was always trying analyzing TJ’s mannerisms, hellbent on ensuring he was able to communicate properly with him. 

Sometimes, it was exhausting. Brock could admit that. Taking care of another person was time consuming and time away at work wasn’t always sufficient for recharging. The gym helped a lot and his friends were always there to lend a hand whenever Brock asked (and even when he didn’t, they just seemed to know). 

Steve would steal TJ away on Sunday afternoons to paint with him in the gallery giving Brock time to catch up on chores. Clint picked TJ up from school on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday and brought him to the dog park to play with Lucky. Natasha usually stole him away on Saturday mornings to help her clip coupons (TJ had his own blue safety scissors he was very proud of). Bucky would invite himself over and play board games and watch movies while Brock cooked dinner and when Steve wasn’t busy with the gallery he tagged along. 

“I hope there are finger sausages, Brock. Remember those? Steve made them. I dipped them in the kitchen and they were too scary! So Bucky said to use mustard instead and then it looked like they were finger painting.” 

“There might be,” Brock knew Clint was awfully excited about peeling grapes so he had a feeling fake eyeballs were in their future. TJ usually got a kick out of them but sometimes things, like the fingers, upset him. “It’s chilly, let’s keep going.”

TJ frowned but obediently trailed along behind Brock. “Hey Brock, can we get warm drinks?”

Brock wasn’t sure how long it would take at the actual store picking out a costume, not to mention the commute on Saturday nights into Bed Stuy was always a pain. But as he turned to explain that, Brock caught sight of TJ’s bright hopefully smile and warm lighting glittering in his eyes from a little cafe. Since they were already right in front of it, how could Brock possibly refuse? 

“Alright,” Brock figured he could coax the nice knit hat Nonna made back into his head. Plus the idea of wrapping his cold-numbed fingers around a nice warm mug sounded too good to pass up. 

•• •• •• •• 

The bell tinkered as Jack prepared the piping bag for more smiling pumpkin cookies.

It was a slow day for a Saturday but it was Halloween so it wasn’t altogether unexpected. Wanda was elbow deep in flour, trying to get a head start on the pain au chocolat. Sundays were always busy, the influx of regulars and those escaping the cold always depleted his usual supply amounts before noon. 

“I’ve got it,” Jack assured Wanda who smiled apologetically.

He set down the bag and wiped his hands on a cloth, stepping out of the kitchen. A young man and a teenager with rosy cheeks from braving the cold walked in. The teen looked around curiously, pointing out the pumpkin shaped loaves of bread Jack had made in honor of the season. 

“Look Brock! Aren’t those neat? Wow, I wonder if Steve could make those. I bet he could, he's so good at baking.” 

His voice was far too loud for such a small space but it was jubilant and his smile was wide and infectious. The man looked at the bread in question and made a noise of approval. “Those are pretty cool Teej. Remember inside voice, right?”

“Oh,” the teenager’s voice dropped to a stage whisper. “Is this more ‘propriate Brock?”

Brock nodded and leaned down to look closer at the bread loaves. He was wearing a long peacoat, the collar popped to protect his neck from the bite. It had to be one of the coldest Halloweens Jack had experienced since he moved here and opened Little Pekarnya but winters here held nothing to those in Moscow. 

Jack made himself look busy, aware that staring at potential customers was not exactly a good business habit. He shifted the lemon tarts forward, fiddled with the sign detailing the ingredients in the specialty cupcake of the day: the Screaming Saccharine. Wanda had fun naming the new creations and her brother, Pietro, worked early hours preparing doughs for Jack to come in and shape and bake. He couldn’t have asked for a better set of workers for his tiny shop. 

“Can you eat them?” the teenager asked Brock who looked towards Jack. 

Jack offered his kindest smile even though his stomach fluttered a bit anxiously as it always did when speaking to new people. “They are display only. But I have some loaves on the wooden stand there. They’re not pumpkins though.”

“Got that Teej?” Brock turned toward the teen who looked crestfallen and then peered at Jack suspiciously.

“You sound funny.” 

“TJ!” Brock admonished, giving Jack an apologetic smile. 

Jack uttered a startled laugh both at the proclamation and at how nice Brock looked when he smiled. He didn’t make a habit of checking out his customers but this one… Well, he figured it was a special case. 

“He does,” TJ insisted, coming closer to the counter. “What happened to your face.”

Jack finished adjusting the sign and closed the display. “TJ,” Brock’s voice was a bit sharper now as Jack absentmindedly reaches up to trail his finger along the deep scar. “I’m sorry sir.”

“I’m Jack. And it’s okay. I got into a car accident when I was young.”

“Did it hurt?” TJ asked, coming closer. “How come you sound so weird?”

Jack recalled the sound of warping metal, the deafening boom of impact but shook it away with a friendly smile. “It did,” Jack said candidly. “I’m not from around here. I’m from Russia.”

“I know where that is on a map!” TJ bounced a bit on the ball of his feet, almost as tall as Brock. 

Jack felt heat creeping up his neck as Brock gave him a warm smile, his eyes the same hue as honey, lips the fair color of the Sakura blossoms right before they hit they normal coloring that Jack saw when he was traveling in Japan. 

“Well I think you deserve a free dessert for that — if it’s okay with you?”

Brock nodded his permission and blessed Jack with another sweet smile of thanks. Beneath his dark jacket were muscles, Jack could tell the way his biceps straightened against the sleeves of his jacket. As wrong as it was to think such things about a stranger, Jack wanted to see what was underneath. 

TJ bent forward, face screwed up concentration as he glared down at the dessert offerings. Jack made a mental note to wipe it down once they left as TJ’s nose pressed against the glass. “There are so many choices Brock!”

“Maybe we can ask Jack which one he suggests? D’ya make all these?”

“Me and Wanda.” Jack could never take full credit for anything done at Little Pekarnya, not even the traditional Russian pastries because Wanda always had a touch on everything.

Brock whistles lowly and somehow that was one of the best compliments he’d ever gotten, including the little tidbit he had in the newspaper praising him for being the most authentic taste of Russia in the city. 

TJ looked at him seeming panicked. “What do I pick? There’s so many.”

“Well, what do you like?” 

He got a wide smile in return. “I like chocolate! And sweets. I like candy. Ummm I don’t like raisins so much.”

That eliminates the raisin rum cake and a oatmeal chocolate raisin cookies but that did leave quite a few options. “How about a cupcake?” Brock asked. 

“What are those?”

Jack followed TJ’s fingers to the chak-chak and smiled brightly. “That is called a chak-chak and it’s made with a fried ball of flatbread, covered in honey syrup and covered in candied pecans.” 

Jack could talk about desserts for hours so he was almost disappointed when TJ bobbed his head and politely requested it. “Would you like to try one? On the house.”

Brock laughed. “How could I say no to that? But we do need to buy two mugs of hot chocolate.”

While Jack warmed the treats a bit, Wanda shooed him away from the stove grabbing the heavy cream and Belgium chocolate squares. “No way, I hear you out there. You like him.”

“I hardly know him.”

“I don’t care. I’ll make the cocoa, you go out there and entertain your customers.”

Jack was certain his blush was visible from space but with nothing else to do, he retrieved the chaka-chaka and brought it to the table. Maybe he almost face planted when he saw Brock had shrugged out of his jacket and was wearing a tight blue tee. He looked every bit as good as Jack had expected and it made him even more tongue tied as he set down the treats and tried to think of what to say next. 

•• •• •• ••

“We’re going to a Halloween party!” TJ announced, cutting off the kind baker who had opened his mouth to say something.

“Interrupting isn’t polite,” Brock reminded him, the sweet smell of the ch-whatever making his mouth water. 

He liked the painting of a little street view he thought was in Russia propped on the wall. It was oil and reminded him a bit of the show Steve had done after busting Venice on his anniversary trip. Brock would never understand the fancy-schmancy names for art stuff but knew what he liked. 

The smell of warm chocolate was mixing with sugar and fresh bread already lingering in the air and it smelled a bit like afternoons at Nonna’s house, a good homey feel. Brock felt comfortable here and was surprised they’d never stopped in before. 

“What were ya saying?” Brock looked up at Jack, eyes trailing along the scar on his face before he reminded him that no, that was rude. 

“Oh just letting you know the hot chocolate was started. A Halloween party huh? That sounds like fun.”

“Do you have Halloween in Russia?” TJ asked eagerly, picking apart the treat to pop some in his mouth.

“Well, when I was a kid we did a little but now they don’t really like it much.” Brock was vaguely aware that things in Russia were a bit tighter than he was used to here in the States. But he appreciated that Jack understood the careful way to explain things like that to TJ. “Halloween is much more fun here in America!”

“How could anyone not like Halloween!” TJ completely forgot about inside voices in his horror. “It’s the bestest holiday ever — except for Christmas. Do you have Christmas in Russia?” 

“We do — but it’s in January.” Jack lowered his voice like it was a secret and Brock smiled a bit.

“Does Santa know?” 

“Of course he does! Santa knows everything.” 

TJ seemed satisfied for the moment and Brock thanked Jack quietly for answering his questions. “Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning,” Jack replied. “I read that somewhere but don’t ask who said it.” 

Brock laughed and TJ said, “You should come to the Halloween party tonight. But you need to wear a costume. Tell ‘im Brock. Tell ‘im where Clint and Tasha’s house is and what time it starts.”

Both men looked like deer caught in headlights, frozen and unsure of what to say. Brock wasn’t sure if he should scold TJ for saying that but part of him thought that having the nice handsome baker in attendance could be fun. But they were still near strangers. “Do you have plans for tonight already?” Brock ended up asking. “It’s just a group of friends eating and hanging out.”

“He’s free!” A woman shouted from the kitchen and Jack’s face tinged red. 

“If you want to come, feel free. I’m Brock Rumlow by the way. It starts at five but you can come whenever if you’re interested.” He finished a pen from his pocket and wrote it on a napkin. Jack’s silence made him nervous and that just made him talk more. “My friends Clint and Natasha and Steve and Bucky will be there so you’ll be able to talk to more people than just us — ”

“They’re my friends too!” TJ reminded him around a mouthful of chaka-chaka. 

A young woman with red hair emerged from the kitchen and Jack said, “I’ll see if I can make it,” and vanished.

“He’s skittish but he likes you,” the woman whispered as she set down the mugs with two pumpkin cookies they hadn’t ordered. “Happy Halloween boys.”

•• •• •• ••

Clint and Natasha had gone over the top, as was tradition. The little bit of lawn space they was covered in fake gravestones, a creepy scarecrow and a giant spider. The tree was covered in fake cobwebs with little ghosts hanging from the branches and a circle of ghosts staked a circle around it. 

TJ had settled on being a Dalmatian and even though it took Brock a good forty minutes to figure out the damn face paint the two of them looked pretty good, if he should say. He had gone traditional with skull make up on his face. TJ was grinning the whole way over and when they started up the walk Brock figured out why. 

“Ahhh!” 

Robin Hood complete with the tights leapt out of a pile of leaves in the neighbors undecorated yard and caught Brock by surprise. He let out a very unmanly shout and almost fell on his ass while Clint howled with laughter. “I told you! I told you that you’d scare him!” 

“Heck yeah you did!” Brock watched the two high five as his heart rate slowed. 

“Oh so you were in on it huh?” Brock shook his head fondly. “No wonder you were all smiles over here.”

“We were gonna scare you Brock! And we did. You were so scared, weren’t you?”

“Oh yeah.” Brock shook his head a small chuckle. “You got me good.”

Natasha met him dressed at the red haired girl from Brave, Brock could never remember the name to, with her special ghoul’s brew which he appreciated after the scare. The inside of the house had been decked out to fit the mood, every inch covered in some sort of cobweb, picture or in the case of the hallway, black slime running down the walls. Drinks sat in a bowl of dry ice with eery ted light behind it and the table was full of the kind of disgustingly delicious creations were expected. Steve and Bucky were there, obviously far too deep in their current Buffy the Vampire Slayer infatuation. Bucky had a name tag with ‘God’ written on it in tribute to Oz’s costume and Steve appeared to be Dark Willow. 

“Wow, oh wow Steve! You look really scary.” TJ kept close to Bucky as he admired the face paint. 

“Thanks buddy!” 

Once TJ was assured it was in fact Steve he loosened up considerably and started to poke at the bowl with a sign reading ‘toe beans of mean kitties’ which Clint quickly assured were chocolate-covered jelly beans. 

“Alright, now the gang’s here I think we can start playing ‘What’s in the Box’.” 

The prize basket was sitting on top of the fridge, a collection of tiny bottles of liquor (that would be swapped out for soda if TJ won which he always did), candy and gift cards. 

“No! Jack from Russia is coming.” TJ announced and Brock blushed.

“I’m sorry Jack from where?”

“He’s this guy we met at a bakery today. TJ invited him and I — well, he’s a really nice guy but I don’t think he’s coming.” Brock finished lamely, rubbing the back of his neck.

Natasha looked at him with her sharp critical gaze before she abruptly said, “We’ll wait.”

Clint used the time to introduce every food creation they’d come up with. Newt eyes (which were white fudge dipped sunflower seeds they’d drawn on with a toothpick), dirt and worms (chocolate pudding, gummy worms and crushed cookies), spider egg sacs (pomegranate seeds inside stringy marshmallow balls), sausage fingers (Steve pointed out they were stolen), mystery meat balls (Swedish meatballs), tongues (taffy well shaped), and eyeballs (peeled grapes frozen in liquid nitrogen). 

“And the scariest of all — a veggie platter that Nat made me buy.” 

TJ nodded his head gravelly and informed them that he probably wasn’t going to eat any veggies today because it was a candy day. Brock couldn’t argue with that reasoning although he was glad to find something that wasn’t full of sugar or fat. Five turned to six before Natasha regretfully mentioned the game. Brock kicked himself for feeling disappointed. Meeting people didn’t fit in with his schedule so change encounters like that were one in a thousand. And when they were as cute as Jack had been...well, chances went even lower. 

It was hard to feel too down when surrounded such a cheerful, goofy bunch and soon they were feeling slippery squishy things inside, and making a guess as to what it was while Clint prepared bobbing for apples. 

The knock on the door startled Brock but after a moment of confusion Natasha gave him a sly look and dashed toward the door. Brock front was sodden with water and his make up was running as he hustled along behind her, hopeful and terrified all at once. It could have easily been a noise complaint from Monster Mash playing far too loud on repeat but in Brock’s gut he knew that it wasn’t.

Natasha yanked open the door and Brock stopped dead. 

“Happy Halloween.”

Jack was — well, Brock knew it was Jack after he spoke — wearing a green man suit. “You must be Jack,” Natasha kept her composure while Brock made a sound like he was choking before he doubled over. 

“Yes. You’re Natasha?”

“Oh so he told you about me — Brock, stop it you ass.”

“Sorry,” Brock wheezed. “Oh God, sorry I’m just — wow, I know they don’t do Halloween in Russia but they do sporting events right? Bear wrestling and shit?”

“It was all they had left at the costume store,” Green Man Jack argued, though he sounded amused as well. “Sorry I’m late, the medovik was cooling and I didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

“You didn’t have to bring anything, your company is plenty. Brock, seriously, stop laughing.”

“No, no. I like his laugh.” Jack said and through the tears in Brock’s eyes at how ridiculous he looked, Brock suspected he was smiling.

The hallway behind them was crowded as Bucky and Steve came to snoop, so Clint and TJ joined in and since no one was at the food table to slip Lucky treats, he too was there. “Did he bring food? I heard tinfoil,” Clint tried to squeeze past everyone to investigate. 

“You came! I told you he’d come. Brock said you wouldn’t but I knew you’d come. You have to play the box game too. He can play, right Tasha?”

“Of course he can.” Natasha muscled everyone back with impressive strength. “Clearly we don’t get around new people enough. We’ve forgotten how to act.”

Clint scoffed in disagreement trying to get the plate from Natasha. Soon it was just Brock and Jack in the hallway and he was close enough to Brock that he could smell the bakery and cologne on his skin. “I’m glad you came,” Brock said. “Hopefully we don’t scare you away tonight.”

“You all seem very happy,” Jack said and Brock found he really liked Jack’s accent. 

“I’m sorry I laughed at your costume,” Brock said, feeling guilty. 

“No, I like your laugh.” Jack insisted and Brock’s chest felt warm.

It was a start of something for sure; and on Halloween of all nights.


End file.
